


Amongst the stars

by withflouronmyhands



Series: Cressi Week 2k18 [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Pre-Relationship, Songfic, cressiweek2k18, post-retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withflouronmyhands/pseuds/withflouronmyhands
Summary: In a warm Miami night, they finally talk.





	Amongst the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 1 of Cressi Week 2k18.

_What if this storm ends?_  
_And I don't see you_  
_As you are now_  
_Ever again_

 

It wasn’t the first time Leo saw Ronaldo since leaving Barça. It definitely wasn’t the first time he saw him since Ronaldo had left Real Madrid, in what now seems to be a lifetime ago. However, there is something that stops Leo dead on his track when his eyes land on Ronaldo.

Dressed in a sleek, black tuxedo, Ronaldo strikes a figure, demanding the attention of everyone in the room like he usually does. Leo’s used to it, though, so he doesn’t think much of it. What catches his eye is that Ronaldo, in that moment, with his head thrown back as he laughs at something someone said, diamond earrings shining on his ears, looks so _young_. It makes Leo lose sense of time, makes his body feel ten years younger, brings back all the confusing feelings Leo has for Ronaldo.

“Papa,” Thiago calls, tugging gently on his hand. “Are you feeling ok? You just stopped.”

It’s looking at Thiago, all grown-up, that brings him back to the present. The pain returns to his legs and back, the age heavies again. On the other side of the room, Ronaldo has stopped laughing, and a big smile is plastered on his face.

“Yes.” He smiles at Thiago, who smiles back. “Let’s go find mum so you can run off without leaving you’re old man alone, shall we?”

Thiago rolls his eye, but laces his finger with Leo’s. It’s the kind of affection Leo has never shared with his father, and he loves that he gets to have that with his kids.

They’re at an award’s ceremony in Miami. It’s a new thing, a new award that was created just a couple of years ago. When Leo asked about why he had to attend, given that his career was as good as over and he had no history with this particular ceremony, they said something about wanting to shed some attention to it. _I might not score goals, but I still sell headlines_ , Leo had thought bitterly at the time.

A few hours late, Leo was fed up with the event. It had been fun, and the kids were clearly having a good time—just ten minutes ago, Leo had seen Thiago playing cards with Ramos’s oldest, Marco, Davi and Cristiano Jr—, but it was more attention and socialization than Leo was used too this days.

“I’m going to get a drink. Do you want something?” He turned to Antonella. They were resting in one of the many couches in room. Antonella was talking to Shak about some article they had read, and though Leo wasn’t participating in the conversation, he was happy to just be listening.

“No, I’m good.” She smiled and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

Leo got up carefully, aware of Ciro’s sleeping body next to his. Antonella helped him get Ciro closer to her so he could lay his head on her shoulder, and got back to what she was saying.

As he made his away across the room, Leo noticed how the other kids had ended up mingling together, forming small groups to talk and play. Must like Ciro, some of the kids were sleeping, tired by the night’s events: he could see Eva dead to the world next to Georgina, while Mateo chatted excitedly with her.

Leo got a glass of champagne from the wall by table. It was lukewarm already, and the droplets of condensation on the glass wetted his fingers. From the open window to the private garden outside came a cooler breeze, so Leo made his way out and sat on one of the benches.

From the other end of the garden, where some of the kids had gathered to enjoy the night playing a friendly game of football, came excited shrieks of laughter. He smiled as he watched Mateo score and couldn’t help but scream, “Good one, Mateo!” Mateo turned and smiled in contentment, but looked back as the game started again.

“It’s funny watching them like that, isn’t it?”

Leo turned to his left, surprised that someone was talking to him, and even more surprised when he looked up and was met with Ronaldo’s smiling face.

“It is, indeed,” he agreed. It hurt to have to strain his neck so much to look at Ronaldo’s face, so he looked down, which made him stare at Ronaldo’s stomach. He turned his gaze to the game.

“Do you mind if I seat?” Ronaldo asked.

“Be my guest,” Leo conceded, shuffling to the side of the bench so Ronaldo could seat.

It wasn’t the first time they sat side by side like that. They had done so at multiple award ceremonies and sponsorship conferences over the years, and for considerably longer amounts of time, too. Leo never minded. Regardless of however the season was going for either of them, Ronaldo had always been nothing but polite, making small talk—something that Leo had had to learn to do over the years—and sharing the occasional joke. However, out in the garden, with both of them tired from the night’s interactions, it seemed so much more intimate.

“So, is any of your kids following your footsteps?” Ronaldo asked. When Leo looked at him, he could see a small, nice smile on Ronaldo’s face. Ronaldo, he noted, had taken off his tuxedo jacket at some point during the evening, and was now dressed in an expensive white shirt and a crooked black bow tie. He seemed so… approachable.

Ronaldo looked at him with one eyebrow raised when Leo didn’t answer, and Leo blushed at being caught. “Well,” he started, clearing his throat, “I’ve always thought that if one of them was to pursue football, it would be Thiago, but it seems that he only appreciates the sport as a spectator. Mateo, on the other hand, seems to be taking it more seriously by the day.”

“He’s good,” Ronaldo commented, turning his gaze towards the game.

“Yes, but we’re still to see. Every kid wants to be a footballer when they’re young, right?”

Ronaldo laughed, “Can’t argue with that.” He smiled at Leo. He looked good when he smiled. Leo understood why he did it so much. “What about your youngest?”

“Ciro? I don’t think he’s too kin on it. He’s on the team, at school, but I think it is only for entertainment. He’s young, anyway. He’s got time.” Leo smiled, thinking of the child sleeping inside.

Ronaldo nodded. “More than we had, at any rate.” Ronaldo turned his body to him, looking at Leo as he talked. “But I don’t regret it, you know?” Ronaldo smiles again, but, somehow, Leo can now notice how exhausted Ronaldo looks. “Because it means that I can give them everything now.”

Feeling bold, Leo asks, with his eyes fixed on Ronaldo’s face, “Is there anything you regret?”

Ronaldo smiles, something nostalgic and just a little bitter and regretful, “I regret some things, but I don’t mind it. I did what I thought was right when I was making those decisions, and I live by that.” He looks back at Leo and smiles a little.

He looks good under the light of the garden, dressed only in his shirt. He shouldn’t strike Leo as different, but he does: there are marks in his faces, wrinkles from years of stress, and laughter, and losses, and achievements. In a way, Leo had always dreaded the day when he would realize that Ronaldo had lost his fire, because that would mean Leo had lost his as well. With their careers and their lives so intertwined, there was no way that Ronaldo could blow out with Leo still shining.

They might have started burning at different moments, but they were meant to die out together.

He realizes now, though, that perhaps he might have gotten it all wrong. Because, even though Ronaldo looks faded out, contempt in simply being, he had never looked so carefree and light. The weight had been lifted of his shoulders, and he could now breathe properly.

“Do you know something I regret in particular?” Ronaldo asks. There’s something in his eyes that makes something in Leo spark up a little bit, a shadow of the flame that used to burn in him whenever it was him, Ronaldo, and the game.

“What?” Leo asks, smiling back at him. He stands straighter, ready for a challenge.

“Never asking you out to dinner,” Ronaldo says, looking victorious when Leo jumps a little, taken aback. “I think it would have been nice, you know? We’re the greatest of rivals, which means that, like all great rivals, we’re probably the most alike. Something about how we should understand each other and all that.” Ronaldo looks a bit sheepish about his words, losing some of his poise. He shudders, but still looks at Leo. “I don’t know. I just think it would have been nice.”

Leo feels a blush burn his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. His heart misses a bit or two in his chest. “Well,” he says, fixing his eyes on Ronaldo’s dark ones. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. There’s always tomorrow, right?”

“Indeed,” Ronaldo agrees. He seems to recover his confidence as he stands proud and tall again. “I’ll hold you up to that.”

Leo laughs, “I’m sure you will.”

They end up turning their eyes back to the game. Little Alana had joined Mateo’s team, and though she is small, she is quick on her feet, and the talent is certainly there. And it seems so right, to see the two of them playing together, the way that their fathers never had the chance to, with Cristiano’s arm resting comfortably along Leo’s shoulders, his hand a warm presence on his arm.

Perhaps, now, they would have their chance.

 

_Now it's found us_  
_Like I have found you_  
_I don't want to run_  
_Just overwhelm me_

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I participate in something like this, and the first time I post a story in English, so I'm very excited. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Song bits in the story are from today's suggested song, "The Lightning Strike", by Snow Patrol.


End file.
